


out of commission

by wearing_tearing



Series: reality warping [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 14:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4610919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearing_tearing/pseuds/wearing_tearing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And what was your plan, huh? Meet me at home and hope I didn’t notice the cast on your arm?”</p><p>Steve shrugs. “It took you three days to notice Natasha got a new haircut. It might have worked.”</p><p>Bucky tries to give him a flat look, but fails when his lips quirk up. “Natasha isn’t you,” Bucky murmurs. “It’s different when it’s you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	out of commission

**Author's Note:**

> based on this au prompt: _“So what if I broke my arm I’m still doing it.”_ ([x](http://bittenprompts.tumblr.com/post/117229147296/ridiculous-sentence-prompts))

“Is the day over yet?” Bucky asks, scrubbing a hand over his face.

He’s tired, his muscles ache, and he can already feel a headache coming on. He loves working at the dance studio with Nat, teaching ballroom and swing dancing to adults, teenagers and little kids alike, but some days he just wants to lie down and melt into the floorboard.

It doesn’t help that today he was hit on by two girls and one boy who were all half his age _and_ he got kicked in the shin by an enthusiastic six year old who was taking her first dance class. So all Bucky wants is to go home and take a bath and _sleep_.

And then spend the entire weekend with his boyfriend celebrating their two year anniversary together.

“There are technically five minutes left before we close, but I think we can make an exception today.”

“Really?” Bucky looks up at Natasha, who nods and walks up to lock the front door. “Nat, you’re my favorite.”

Natasha smiles at him, small but fond. “Aside from Steve, of course.”

“I think that goes without saying, at this point,” Darcy pipes up from her place at the reception desk. “We all know who Bucky loves best.”

“You two are still my best girls,” Bucky says with an easy grin, reaching out to tug at a strand of Natasha’s hair. She bats his hand away, looking completely unimpressed.

“We’re impervious to your charms, James.”

“I’m not,” Darcy tells them, resting her chin on her hand as she looks Bucky up and down. “Especially not after you made him help you with your toddler ballet class and I got to watch.”

Bucky can’t help but shudder at that. He likes kids, but having Natasha’s class of little girls glare at him whenever he got a twirl wrong made him consider changing his mind.

“I don’t think I’ll be doing _that_ again any time soon,” Bucky mutters.

“I don’t know why you don’t believe me when I tell you the girls liked you,” Natasha says. “They thought it was very nice of you to learn how to be a good dancer even you’re _old_.”

Bucky gapes at her, all mock offense. “You know what? I don’t have to take this. I’m gonna go home and be with someone who appreciates my talents.”

“Your talents aren’t the only thing Steve appreciates,” Darcy comments, eyes falling down to the way Bucky’s tight pants hug his legs and stretch over his crotch.

Bucky fights the urge to squirm and cover himself, and he can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Shut up,” is all he can think of saying, which makes Darcy grin at him.

“Okay, leave.” Natasha gives his shoulder a push. “That was a terrible comeback and you’re embarrassing me.”

Bucky sticks his tongue out at her, but moves when Natasha pushes him again. He listens to the sounds of Natasha and Darcy talking as he changes clothes and gathers his things, picking up his bag and closing his locker before walking to the reception again.

“Have a nice weekend, ladies,” Bucky says with a smile. “Don’t miss me too much.”

Natasha gives him a flat look.

And Darcy rolls her eyes and says, “Don’t fuck your boyfriend too hard.  We don’t want you to pull a muscle and not be able to teach classes next week.”

“Shut up!” Bucky yells over his shoulder, unlocking the front door and stepping out. Over the sounds of the city, he can still hear Natasha and Darcy laughing at him.

*

Bucky is halfway home when his phone rings in his pocket, Sharon’s name flashing across the screen.

“You better not be calling me to pick up your laundry again,” Bucky tells her as soon as he answers the call. “We’re neighbors, but everyone has limits.”

Sharon lives across the hallway from Bucky and Steve, and she works as an ER nurse. That means she keeps odd hours and occasionally needs a favor or two from Bucky and Steve. A favor that can vary from them lending her a cup of sugar to picking up her aunt from the airport.

“That’s not what this is about,” Sharon huffs, voice crackling.

“What is it then?”

Sharon pauses and then says, “Don’t freak out.”

Bucky stops in the middle of the street, his insides growing cold. He doesn’t even bother to curse when someone bumps into him from behind and almost makes him drop his bag on the ground.

“How hurt is he?” Bucky asks, grip tightening on the strap of his bag as he changes direction, eyes scanning for a cab. His heart clenches in his chest, stomach churning as he waits for Sharon’s answer.

“Just a few scrapes and bruises,” Sharon says calmly. “And a broken arm.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky hisses, closing his eyes. “Sharon—“

“He didn’t want me to call you,” Sharon sighs. “You know how he gets.”

“You mean I know how much of a dumbass he is,” Bucky replies, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Thank you for not listening to him.”

“No problem, Bucky. Will you be here soon?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“You got it. I’ll try to keep him here.”

“Thanks again.”

Bucky ends the call without waiting for an answer, finally getting a cab and rattling the hospital’s address as he tries to calm himself down. He wonders if there will ever come a point in his life where he won’t receive calls about Steve showing up at the hospital hurt. He likes to think so, but he knows it probably won’t happen.

From back alley fights to working for the police department, Bucky knows Steve will always find a way to get himself into trouble.

*

“Where is he?”

Sharon gives him a tired smile, reaching out to place a hand on Bucky’s arm. “This way.”

Bucky tries to focus on Sharon’s hand on his arm as they walk, not on the way he can practically hear his heartbeat in his ears. He knows a broken arm isn’t that bad, not considering the kind of work Steve does and the amount of things that could go wrong on his job. That doesn’t mean Bucky doesn’t worry, doesn’t mean Bucky likes to see him hurt, even if it’s nothing more serious than a bruise.

“It’s through there,” Sharon says, pointing at a closed door. “Just thought I should let you know that he’s not exactly in the best of moods.”

Bucky huffs. “He wouldn’t be.”

Steve never is, after getting hurt. He gets angry and grumpy and restless, because he doesn’t like the idea of having to be taken care of and not being able to help people if they need it. It’s been that way since he and Bucky were kids, and Bucky knows it’ll continue on being that way as they grow old.

“Thanks again for calling me,” Bucky says, offering Sharon a small smile.

Sharon waves a hand at him. “Don’t mention it. The doctor should be back soon, so you should hurry.”

Bucky nods at her, taking a deep breath before entering the room.

“Oh, sweetheart,” is what escapes Bucky’s mouth as soon as he sees Steve.

Steve’s sitting on the bed, wearing his uniform pants and one of his white undershirts. His shoulders are hunched and lips are turned down, his face tight with pain. His right arm is a mess of scrapes from his elbow up to his shoulder, and Bucky can already see the bruises forming along his pale skin. His left arm is in a cast.

At the sound of Bucky’s voice Steve looks up, managing to look both happy and angry at the sight of him.

“Sharon called you.”

“Damn right she did,” Bucky replies, coming closer until he can rest a hand on Steve’s hair, fingers carding through the soft strands. “Like hell I’m gonna leave you alone when you’re hurt.”

“‘M fine,” Steve mumbles and scowls, but doesn’t move away from Bucky’s touch. “It was just a scratch.”

“You _broke your arm_ ,” Bucky says, although he should know better than to be surprised about Steve making light of this. The thing about growing up getting into fights every other day is that Steve’s tolerance for pain is fucked up. So is his sense of what classifies as a serious injury.

Steve shrugs, and then immediately hisses when the movement pulls at his cuts.

“See?” Bucky gives him a flat look. “Not just a scratch.”

Steve glares at him, mouth tight. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will. Still doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have called me,” Bucky sighs, hand coming down to cup Steve’s cheek. Steve leans into the touch, shoulders losing a bit of tension.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Steve says quietly, eyes closing.

Bucky leans down and rests their foreheads together. “We’ve had this conversation before. Many, _many_ times. What do I always say?”

Steve purses his lips together, sounding all kinds of put out when he answers, “You’re only bothered when you’re not there to have my back.”

Bucky usually thinks Steve looks cute when he’s pouting, but this is not one of those times.

“That goes for having your back in a fight and also for when people are snapping your bones back together,” Bucky says, thumb tracing Steve’s cheekbone. “I always want to be on your six.”

Steve turns his head to press a kiss to Bucky palm, breath ghosting over Bucky’s pulse point. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Bucky repeats, pulling back a little to stare at Steve. “And what was your plan, huh? Meet me at home and hope I didn’t notice the cast on your arm?”

Steve shrugs. “It took you three days to notice Natasha got a new haircut. It might have worked.”

Bucky tries to give him a flat look, but fails when his lips quirk up. “Natasha isn’t you,” Bucky murmurs. “It’s different when it’s you.”

Steve smiles a little at that, eyes turning liquid. He also tilts his head up and licks his lips, and that’s a request if Bucky’s ever seen one.

Bucky obliges, giving him a sweet and chaste kiss. “Now tell me what happened.”

“Domestic disturbance call,” Steve says, expression hardening. “A guy, his sister and his nephew. He had a bat.”

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky breathes out, bringing his other hand to rest on the back of Steve’s neck.

“Everyone’s okay.”

“Except you,” Bucky adds, throat closing.

“It happens.”

“It _shouldn’t_ ,” Bucky snaps right back. “You gotta be more careful.”

“I try.”

“Try _harder_.” Bucky shakes his head. “I know shit happens, but you don’t hafta to go lookin’ for it. You gotta take care of yourself, y’hear me?”

“Your accent comes out when you’re upset,” Steve says, blinking up at him. “Did you know that?”

“Did I—,” Bucky wrinkles his nose at Steve. “Yeah, I fuckin’ knew that. But that’s not _important_ , Steve. What’s important is you promisin’ me you’re gonna take better care of yourself when you’re out there. I don’t wanna get a call one day tellin’ me my best guy got himself dead on the job.”

“Bucky—“

The doctor shows up before Steve can say anything, barely giving Bucky a nod of acknowledgement before he starts talking about what kind of care Steve should have with the cast. Bucky makes sure to pay attention to the instructions, knowing that Steve will probably get tired of following them after a week is up. It doesn’t take long after that for Steve to be discharged, Sharon waving at them from the nurse’s station when they leave.

The ride back to their apartment is silent and tense, Bucky and Steve sitting close together in the cab but not quite touching.

They’ve had this discussion before, about the dangers of Steve working as a police officer. It happened only once, right after Steve was accepted into the academy, and it ended with Steve promising to be careful and Bucky threatening to kill him if he wasn’t.

The thing is, Steve is good at what he does. He’s good at it and it makes him happy to be helping people, and Bucky would never ask him to quit because he’s afraid something might happen. But Bucky can’t help but feel the panic that rises in his stomach and threatens to take a hold of him whenever he hears Steve got hurt trying to protect someone. That mostly comes from his own inability to be there to protect Steve from everything, and because he doesn’t know what he’d do if he ever lost Steve.

And Bucky knows that’s not something he can put on Steve’s shoulders, that he shouldn’t project his insecurities like that. Sometimes he can’t help it, though, especially when he sees Steve hurt and in pain like today.

That still doesn’t mean that the first thing out of his mouth when they get to their apartment isn’t an apology, because it is. Steve deserves better than Bucky making him feel guilty for doing what he does.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says quietly, dropping his bag on the floor and turning around so he can wrap his arms around Steve’s waist. “I know better than to think you can control when bad shit happens, and it’s not fair of me to make you feel like you did somethin’ wrong by gettin’ hurt.”

“I know you get worried,” Steve mumbles, hands resting on Bucky’s forearms, his cast rough against Bucky’s skin.

“Still doesn’t make it okay,” Bucky tells him. “I know you’re as careful as you can be, so I’m sorry for sayin’ all that and soundin’ like I don’t know you always do your best to come back to me every day.”

Steve makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, lips finding Bucky’s in a slow kiss. “I promise I do, and I’ll keep doing it.”

“Thank you.” Bucky bumps their noses together. “I’m sorry again.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Thank you.” Bucky gives him a short kiss, going for another one but stopping just an inch away from Steve’s mouth because Steve yawns right in his face. “Well, that’s nice.”

Steve groans and ducks his head, the tips of his ears flushing. “Sorry.”

“C’mon, you big lug,” Bucky says, grabbing Steve’s right hand. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Steve lets himself be led, stumbling along after Bucky. Bucky makes sure to take extra care when he undresses Steve, not wanting his clothes rubbing against the scrapes on Steve’s arm. He also places small kisses to the uninjured skin on Steve’s right arm, to his left shoulder, to the unbruised skin on his back.

Steve lets him do as he wishes, only keeping a hand on Bucky’s hair or shoulder. Bucky notices Steve’s body finally relaxing as they get ready for bed, his expression going from alert to dead tired in the span of ten minutes.

“‘M sorry,” Steve says once he’s lying on his stomach on top of the covers, wearing only his underwear.

“Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” Bucky says, swiping Steve’s hair from his forehead. He’s on his side on the bed, one of his legs thrown over Steve’s thighs.

“There is,” Steve argues, scowling a little. “Tomorrow’s our anniversary and I got hurt.”

Bucky can’t help but let his lips curl into a smile at that. “Are you still going to spend the entire day with me?”

Steve frowns, but says, “Yes.”

“Are you going to let me kiss you whenever I want?”

Steve huffs, his ears and the back of his neck turning red. “Yes.”

“Are you going to complain when I tell you how much I love you and how much you mean to me?”

Steve squirms a little on the bed, his flush spreading to his face and shoulders. “Yes,” he still says, almost a whisper.

“Then we’re good,” Bucky promises, placing a kiss to Steve’s temple.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Steve lets out a breath, relaxing completely into the mattress. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Bucky says back, letting his fingers tangle through Steve’s hair. “Night, Stevie.”

“Night, Buck,” Steve mumbles, already sounding half asleep. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Bucky answers, his hand resting in between Steve’s shoulder blades, counting his breaths. “So much.”

*

Bucky wakes up to noise.

Or, more precisely, Bucky wakes up to something falling to the floor and Steve cursing so loud that Bucky thinks they’re under attack for a minute.

It takes him getting on his feet and running to the kitchen while holding a shoe as a weapon to realize that everything’s okay. But that’s mostly because Steve turns to look at him and promptly bursts out laughing.

“What.”

“Are you planning on killing someone with that?” Steve points to the shoe, smiling so wide Bucky thinks his face is about to crack. “You should have grabbed your running shoes. God knows one sniff of them and people would fall over dead.”

“What,” Bucky says again, blinking slowly and trying to focus. The kitchen is a mess of overturned pots and open cabinets and a set of bowls Natasha bought them spread all over the floor. “My running shoes aren’t smelly,” he says after a beat. “What?”

“Are you even awake right now?” Steve asks, coming up to Bucky, taking the shoe from him, and dropping it to the floor.

“I heard noise,” Bucky tells him, still looking around in confusion. “What were you _doing_?”

“I’m cooking breakfast.”

Bucky presses his lips together, looking from the mess to Steve’s _broken arm_ and back again. “And that’s going really well for you.”

Steve makes a face at him. “I might be having a little difficulty.”

“A little?” Bucky asks dryly. “You have a broken arm, Steve.”

“So what if I broke my arm?” Steve crosses his arms over his chest. Or tries to. He’s not exactly that successful with the cast in the way, and Bucky has to bite on the inside of his cheek not to laugh. “I’m still doing it. It’s tradition.”

Bucky softens at that, letting his hands rest on Steve’s hips and pulling him closer. “Aren’t you in pain?”

Steve shakes his head. “Already took my painkillers.”

“I can always make _you_ breakfast in bed instead.”

“You could,” Steve agrees. “But I want something else from you.”

“Oh?” Bucky raises an eyebrow.

Steve doesn’t say anything, just grins and wraps his arms around Bucky, letting his hand fall to Bucky’s ass.

“Oh.” Bucky swallows, spine tingling. “Yeah?”

Steve shrugs one shoulder. “Can’t exactly do much with my arm in a cast, but I can lie down and let you do all the work.”

Bucky snorts, shaking his head. “You’re a real charmer, Rogers.”

“Thank you,” Steve nods, eyes wide and innocent.

He almost fools Bucky.

“I’ll get back to bed, then,” Bucky tells him, giving Steve’s hips a squeeze before letting go.

“You do that,” Steve says, ducking his head to steal a kiss.

*

It takes about an hour for Steve to come back to their bedroom, balancing a tray on his cast. Bucky smiles at the assortment of toast, cut up fruit, and mugs filled with coffee. There’s also a folded piece of paper tucked under one of the plates, which Bucky picks up to find a quick sketch of two lobsters holding claws and _happy two year anniversary love u_ written under it.

Bucky laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners as he places the note on his nightstand. “You’re a sap.”

“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugs, because it’s not like he can argue. “Eat your breakfast.”

Bucky does, starting with the cut up fruit and feeding small pieces to Steve as he eats. Steve’s eyes soften as he takes the food from Bucky’s fingers, tongue darting out to lick the juices from Bucky’s skin. They trade kisses along the way, neither of them resisting the urge to be close to each other.

“Told you we were good,” Bucky tells him after they’ve finished the food, putting the tray down on the floor by their bed. “Even with your arm out of commission.”

“You did,” Steve says, hand trailing up and down Bucky’s side. “Could make things a little better, though.”

“Smooth,” Bucky snorts, getting a hand on Steve’s neck and catching his lips in a kiss. “You wantin’ to get laid, Steve?”

“I’m up for it,” Steve tells him, eyes glinting.

Bucky looks down and sees the outline of Steve’s dick through his underwear. He’s not hard, not just yet, but Bucky knows it won’t take much to get him going. Especially if he’s the one who’s going to be topping.

And it doesn’t, just like Bucky predicts.

It only takes Bucky telling Steve to lie back down and keep his eyes on him and his hands to himself. He watches as Bucky undresses, as Bucky takes himself in hand and jacks himself off slowly, as Bucky slicks his fingers with lube and reaches behind himself, opening himself up for Steve’s dick.

Steve keeps his hands by his sides through it all, his breathing ragged and skin flushed like he’s the one with his fingers buried deep inside Bucky’s ass.

“You regret tellin’ me I gotta do all the work?” Bucky gasps, fucking himself back on his fingers.

“No.” Steve’s voice is rough when he speaks, his jaw clenched. “Can’t regret it when you look so pretty like this.”

Bucky laughs, loud and giddy and a little embarrassed. “Don’t hafta sweet talk me.”

“Just telling the truth,” Steve says, and then adds, “Did you know your accents comes out when you’re turned on?”

Bucky chokes on a breath, clenching around his own fingers as he stretches himself. “That turn _you_ on, sweetheart?”

Steve shrugs, but then both see Steve’s dick twitching against his stomach, precome beading at the tip.

“Good to know,” Bucky says with a grin, and then pulls his fingers out of himself, whining a little at the loss.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, fingers digging into the mattress.

“C’mon, Stevie,” Bucky says, moving until he’s right over Steve’s dick. “Gotta help me now.”

Steve swallows and holds on to Bucky’s hip with a hand, letting Bucky brace himself on his shoulders. Bucky reaches behind him to grab Steve’s dick, smirking when Steve hisses at the contact, only to have Steve kiss the expression right off his face.

Bucky can’t say that he minds, not when he has Steve’s lips against his and Steve’s tongue in his mouth as he slowly sinks down onto Steve’s dick. Steve is big and hot and _so good_ inside of him, and Bucky goes a little breathless at how _right_ it feels to be with Steve like this.

He’ll never get tired of this. He could have decades or centuries of him and Steve and them together, and he’ll always fall apart the moment Steve presses inside of him, Steve’s hands holding on to his sides, Steve’s breath mingling with his own. He’ll always give away a little part of himself during these moments, only to get them back at every thrust of Steve’s hips, every word Steve whispers into his mouth, every touch they trade while they move.

And that’s what happens now, as Bucky holds on to Steve’s shoulders. He knows the picture he must make: skin flushed and slicked with sweat, lips pink and swollen, cock hard and leaking as he fucks himself back on Steve’s dick. More importantly, he knows Steve likes it.

Steve kisses him, hot and wet and dirty, licking his way into Bucky’s mouth. His hand comes around between them, the one not in a cast, fingers wrapping around Bucky’s dick and jerking him off. Bucky jumps a little at the friction of Steve’s touch on him, the movement causing him to shift the angle of his hips a little.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky swears, clenching around Steve and biting down on his bottom lip.

Steve presses a grin to Bucky’s skin. “Good?”

“Fuck yeah,” Bucky breathes out. “Really fuckin’ good.”

So good, in fact, that Bucky knows he won’t last long. And he can’t have that, can’t be the one to come first, not when Steve is the one with a broken arm. So he ups his game a little, sliding his hand from Steve’s shoulder down to his pecs, fingers finding Steve’s nipples and pinching them.

“ _Bucky,_ ” Steve moans, lips brushing against Bucky’s, hand going slack around Bucky’s dick.

Bucky smiles, smug and pleased, and clenches around Steve as he moves. He knows Steve’s nipples are sensitive, knows having them played with drives Steve wild. It’s something Steve is kind of self-conscious about, sometimes, how hot it gets him to have Bucky’s hands on his chest, Bucky’s mouth sucking at his nipples.

Bucky isn’t above using that to his advantage.

“Yeah,” Bucky murmurs, mouth at Steve’s ear, teeth nipping at his jaw. “Yeah, sweetheart. You gonna come for me, huh?”

Steve whimpers, pushing his chest back into Bucky’s hand and rocking his hips up. “Bucky, I—”

“C’mon,” Bucky whispers, cheek pressed against Steve’s. “C’mon, Stevie. Come inside me. Do it, sweetheart.”

Steve turns his head, crushing their mouths together at the same time Bucky sinks down on Steve’s dick and pinch Steve’s nipples between his fingers. And that’s all it takes for Steve to still under him, body tensing as he spills inside Bucky. And that’s all it takes for _Bucky_ to come between them, knowing he’s the one who brought Steve over the edge, knowing Steve’s inside him, filling him up.

Bucky slumps against Steve and Steve slumps against the headboard, both of them loose-limbed and trying to catch their breath. Bucky minds not to jostle Steve too much as he wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders, his face tucked against Steve’s neck. Steve, for his turn, slides a hand up and down Bucky’s spine, his fingers coming to rest where he and Bucky are still joined.

Bucky makes a little sound on the back of his throat, not sure if he likes the touch or not, and places a kiss to Steve’s jaw before pulling back a little.

“How was that?”

Steve’s answering smile is big and goofy, his cheeks flushed when he says, “I’d do it again.”

“I ain’t doin’ all the work this time around,” Bucky tells him, bumping their noses together.

“I could bend you over the bed and kneel behind you while I eat you out, how’s that?” Steve asks, smirking when Bucky chokes.

“Sounds great,” Bucky says, voice strangled.

Steve kisses him, slow and sweet. “Happy anniversary, Bucky.”

“Happy anniversary, Steve,” Bucky answers with a smile. “And for many more to come.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Steve tells him, fingers pressing against Bucky’s hole.

“Oh my god,” Bucky gasps. “Shut the fuck up.”

“That’s not ni—“

Steve doesn’t get to finish his sentence. He’s too busy kissing Bucky instead.

*

“Do I need to call another dance instructor to take over your classes for the week?” Darcy asks the minute Bucky walks into the studio come Monday morning.

Bucky doesn’t say anything. He just flips her off. And then proceeds to limp his way to his locker.

He pretends he doesn’t hear Natasha and Darcy laughing behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [tumblr](http://hawkguyz.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
